


Doesn't Change a Thing

by peachgrove



Series: The Epilepsy Diaries [2]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Aftercare, Angst, Crying, Epilepsy, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, M/M, Neurological Disorders, Protectiveness, Seizures, Smut, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:41:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23287216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachgrove/pseuds/peachgrove
Summary: Timmy soon starts to sob above him, making noises that sound a lot like they’re calling Armie’s name, and Armie is quick to soothe the boy’s fears. He moves up the bed to caress Timmy’s face and shush his never ending babbling.“Shhh, it’s alright, honey. I’m gonna help you,” Armie promises, brushing Timmy’s curls from his forehead.orTimmy has a seizure during sex, something the two have yet to deal with.
Relationships: Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer
Series: The Epilepsy Diaries [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1723651
Comments: 20
Kudos: 174





	Doesn't Change a Thing

Armie can’t keep himself from getting his hands all over Timmy as soon as they walk through their apartment door.

In one swift motion, he spins Timmy around and presses him against the now closed door, attacking his lover’s mouth with his own and bracketing him in between his arms. Armie licks inside his mouth and nips at his swollen bottom lip. Timmy opens his mouth willingly in response, panting into Armie’s own as Armie litters his mouth, face, neck, earlobes with vicious bites and then lightly sucks to soothe the ache.

“Armie…” Timmy whispers, already gone and completely pliant in the others arms.

Armie buries his face into Timmy’s neck and breathes him in, groaning and shoving his knee between Timmy’s legs.

Timmy immediately moans in response as he begins frantically grinding his cock against Armie’s leg, chasing the friction and loving every second of it. He reaches his own hands around Armie and slides his them into the back of Armie’s jeans, filling both of them with Armie’s bare ass and squeezing hard.

“Fuck me. Please…” Timmy pants against Armie’s jaw, giving weak kisses all along his chin.

Armie chuckles, wrapping both hands around Timmy’s small waist and pressing the younger against his body, hungry for him, needing him, claiming him as his own. “I’m gonna take care of you, babe. Don’t worry.”

With that, he leads Timmy into the bedroom with a firm hand still on his waist. On their way, Timmy still can’t keep his hands off of Armie as he reaches for his dick and squeezes before they can even get through the door, whining, “I need you. Please, I need you.”

Armie groans, absolutely ravenous for the boy, and quickly throws him onto the bed. They kiss a bit more, messy and hot, and soon Timmy is bucking his hips up to meet Armie’s grinds. “Armie, I need your fingers inside me. Now.”

They get their clothes off in no time, Timmy unsurprisingly mesmerized by Armie’s muscles yet again, just like he always is, biting his lip and calling Armie big and hot and strong and so, so sexy. Armie returns the compliment, running his hands all over Timmy’s smooth, pale skin and chanting that he’s beautiful, just so gorgeous, and so, so sexy as well.

He prepares Timmy with care, opening him up slowly despite the fact that they’re both practically drooling for each other at this moment. He would never want to hurt Timmy. But soon enough, Timmy is claiming that he’s ready, begging for Armie to be as close to him as possible.

“Easy, easy, easy,” Armie says as he pulls his fingers out of Timmy. As he lubes himself up, Timmy gazes at him in true awe, and Armie can’t help but giggle. They are both so incredibly lovesick for each other.

Armie then puts his hands under Timmy’s knees and holds them up against the younger’s chest, lining himself up with his entrance. Timmy whimpers from the pillows, his dick hard and dripping as it lays on his clenched stomach. Armie starts pushing himself in then, still careful to go slow, aware of his size and trying his very hardest to not make any second of this uncomfortable for Timmy.

Armie meets his lover's eyes with sincerity. “You okay?”

Timmy nods frantically, reaching down to give himself a few strokes. His pupils are blown and his lips are cherry red and swollen. He looks like a masterpiece, and he is all Armie’s.

Once he bottoms out and his hips hit Timmy’s ass, he sighs and leans forward to kiss the boy’s neck, again asking if he’s okay. Timmy groans in response and rakes his nails down Armie’s back to claim him, telling him to move, move, move.

And so Armie does. He starts gently at first but eventually gives it to Timmy good and hard, hitting his prostate over and over again. Timmy gasps in pleasure and wraps his legs around Armie’s waist to somehow bring him closer. He then brings his arms around Armie’s neck, locking them as he holds on for dear life as Armie pounds into him relentlessly.

Timmy moans deeply into Armie’s ear as Armie heaves against his neck. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop,” Timmy sobs out, burying his fingers in Armie’s hair at the bottom of his neck.

Armie moans himself, sucking Timmy’s collarbone before saying, “Is it good, baby? Does that feel good?”

Timmy lets out a high pitched whimper at that, panting now. “Yes! It’s so good, Armie. Fuck!” he sobs again.

Armie then gets a hand on Timmy and starts flicking his wrist in time with his own thrusts, and it drives Timmy absolutely wild as he practically shouts in response. He then begins panting even more, just about hyperventilating.

“Easy, babe,” Armie reminds, in the crook of Timmy’s neck.

And then, it seems to come completely out of nowhere, as it always does. Timmy suddenly pulls in a sharp gasp that sounds more like surprise or fear than pleasure. It makes Armie immediately pull back to look at the younger. What he’s met with makes his heart sink quicker than he could’ve ever thought imaginable.

Timmy’s eyes are wide open as he stares at seemingly nothing above him, and his neck is stiff and straining. In fact, Armie comes to notice that at this point his entire body has gone rigid, tight and unmoving as he continues to pant erratically and clench his muscles. Armie notices pretty quickly that his lover was in fact falling into a seizure. While they are having sex. Something so intimate and special will now forever be ruined by the fear of this exact moment.

“Oh my god, baby. Hold on, just hold on,” Armie says as he pulls himself out of Timmy and slides his head from under the younger’s arms that were locked around his neck. He quickly turns the bedside lamp on.

Timmy’s arms remain in that position as if he were still holding Armie, though his biceps clench and unclench rhythmically. He continues to stare at the ceiling as Armie works around him to make the seizure as safe as possible in a bed full of potential asphyxiation hazards.

Armie wildly throws all of the pillows off the bed, save for the one under Timmy’s head, and ripped the sheets and duvets from their balled up spots all over the bed. He knows this seizure will be a big one, and he can’t risk Timmy’s arms or legs getting wrapped up in the blanket and hurting himself or potentially even smothering himself.

Timmy soon starts to sob above him, making noises that sound a lot like they’re calling Armie’s name, and Armie is quick to soothe the boy’s fears. He moves up the bed to caress Timmy’s face and shush his never ending babbling.

“Shhh, it’s alright, honey. I’m gonna help you,” Armie promises, brushing Timmy’s curls from his forehead. Timmy doesn’t acknowledge it, but his sobs seems to subside, if only slightly. “We’re gonna move you on your side, okay?”

Armie knows Timmy can’t hear him, see him, comprehend him at all, but he needs to say these things out loud for himself as well. He needs reassurance in times like these too that Timmy will be okay, he will be fine. And if that means saying every single thing that he’s doing as he’s doing it, then so be it. Because talking to his unconscious lover is sadly the only person he can talk to in these moments where he’s so very alone. 

And yet, he still keeps calm. He’s collected, strong, and he knows exactly what to do. He knows there’s no point in panicking, for that would only make Timmy panic and perhaps make the seizure ten times worse. So he’s tranquil for Timmy’s sake, being the rock for him that he’s always been.

Armie then carefully turns Timmy on his side, the boy groaning at the change of position, clearly not wanting to be touched, but it has to be done. He’s stiff as a board in Armie’s hands, his entire body just beginning to tremble.

“I’m not going to leave you, Tim. It’s okay,” Armie whispers close by his ear. Timmy has no sort of reaction, just blinks rapidly as if there is something in his eye.

Armie looks down between them and notices that they’ve both lost their hard on for some time now. It’s so difficult for him to understand how just minutes ago they were making love and now it’s taken such a dark turn. Even though Armie knows they didn’t do anything to trigger the seizure and that seizures almost always appear unwarranted, he can’t help but feel like this occurrence will always be looming over their heads now during sex, and that’s the last thing he wants to worry about.

When Timmy starts whimpering consistently, Armie reassures him again, this time standing up from the bed in order to give the boy some room for his safety.

“It’s alright, baby. Don’t fight it. Just let it happen. I’ll be right here,” Armie says, hopeful that at least some part of Timmy’s brain is comprehending what he’s saying and providing some comfort to the terrified younger.

Soon after, a high pitched yelp leaves Timmy before the spasms and convulsions begin. Armie checks the clock before turning his eyes back to his lover, who slowly falls into the seizure. It starts up the right side of his body, his leg first beginning to kick before his entire right side is jerking. The rest of his body soon follows. This time, instead of his arms being locked, they’re curled into his chest, the muscle clenching causing him to almost appear to be punching himself. His legs kick out sporadically and almost hit Armie a few times.

“Come on, Timmy. You’ve got it,” Armie promises.

It is difficult for him to both watch and hear. Timmy’s beautiful green eyes roll back in his head yet his eyelids still blink endlessly, making the whites of his eyes show. In fact, his entire face twitches; eyes, nose, eyebrows, mouth, jaw. It’s an eery sight. His neck slams his head against the pillow with such force that Armie starts to worry about a concussion. And the sounds, god the sounds he makes. There’s constant little shouts leaving him, and a scary gurgling noise that sounds a lot like choking. Armie would be more worried if he weren’t on his side, making it impossible to choke on his saliva.

“Oh god, two minutes already?” Armie says quietly to himself. He really doesn’t want this night to end with them in the hospital.

He watches as Timmy’s back then begins to jerk his entire body aggressively, and Armie is shocked that the boy hasn’t flipped onto his back at this point.

“Come out of it for me, Tim. Come on, baby.”

Armie can see a slightly blue tint start to show on Timmy’s lips, evidence that he’s not breathing well. It’s a pretty common thing for him, being that his chest is tight too and making it hard to even take in a breath. But Armie remains calm, knowing that the gasping he’s doing means he’s at least taking in a little bit of air.

Just before they hit the three minute mark, Timmy finally begins to slow. He’s left with only a few jerks of his fingers before he finally stops completely and his eyes roll back into place, hidden under his half closed eyelids. And that’s how the seizure leaves him: weak, lethargic, and exhausted.

“Hey, love. You did so well coming back to me. Come back, babe,” Armie says as he hesitates to touch Timmy.

The pink color starts to slowly come back to Timmy’s lips as he pants in an effort to catch his breath. He stares down at the sheet, seeming to look through it. He’s completely unaware of the world around him. He’d be helpless if he were alone.

“That’s it. Catch your breath,” Armie encourages. He slides his hand under Timmy’s arms that’re still pulled to his chest and rubs his sternum, hoping to soothe the tightness there.

Drool leaks out of the corner of his mouth, tinted red with blood from his bitten tongue. Timmy then starts to lick over his bottom lip several times before trying to speak. It sounds more like grunting and moaning than actual words. It breaks Armie’s heart to know he’s probably so confused right now.

Despite having no clue what Timmy is saying, Armie shushes him and nods like he understands as he sits next to Timmy on the bed again. “I know, baby. You don’t have to talk right now.”

Timmy turns his head towards Armie but still can’t meet his eyes. Armie takes this as an opportunity to ease some of his confusion. “Hey, do you know where you are?”

Timmy finally looks up at Armie then, though his confusion is still evident. He’s surely hearing Armie, but he has absolutely no idea what he’s said or how to respond. It’s so hard to watch Timmy’s brain lack an understanding of the current situation.

“What’s your name?” Armie asks as he lightly drags his thumb along the freckles sprinkled across Timmy’s cheeks and nose. “Timmy, what’s your name?”

Although Armie had literally just told Timmy what his name was, the boy can’t respond with anything but a furrow of his brows, his pupils still blown.

“Okay,” Armie says as he leans down to kiss Timmy’s cheek. “That’s okay.”

Armie feels guilty when he thinks about the fact that for once Timmy didn’t piss himself during the seizure, so he won’t have to change their sheets or anything. He knows that Timmy can’t help it, but he’s just glad that there’s one less thing to worry about.

Just then, Timmy decides he wants to sit up. He gets his arms under him and begins to lift himself off the bed. Armie catches him quickly however, placing a soft hand on his chest to keep him against the bed. Trying to move was something Timmy often did, because when he comes to, his body doesn’t understand why he’s laying down and everyone else is up and about. His brain is trying to understand.

“No, baby. Just lay down for a second. Relax, okay?”

Timmy whimpers then, flimsy hands grabbing for Armie’s thigh. “Ah...A…” he tries.

“What’s the matter, angel? Does something hurt?” Armie puts Timmy’s hand between both of his as he encourages him to keep speaking.

Timmy shakes his head. Armie’s not sure if it’s a no to his answer or if Timmy is still confused.

“Hey, listen. I’m going to get you some water, okay? I’ll be right back,” Armie says before kissing Timmy’s knuckles. Timmy immediately becomes agitated at the thought of Armie leaving, reaching for him again and groaning out a sound that sounds a lot like no over and over. Armie calms him quickly. “It’s okay. I won’t be gone long. Two seconds, babe. Just give me two seconds,” he promises as he stands from the bed.

Timmy’s bottom lip shakes as he watches Armie leave the room. Armie makes sure to leave the door open to the bedroom so Timmy can see him walk down the hallway towards the kitchen. The apartment seems barren and dark as Armie walks through it, every piece of decor or furniture untouched and unbothered, as if the entire world is unaware of Timmy’s turmoil. It almost angers Armie. Their apartment holds secrets some may never come across.

When Armie returns with the water, Timmy is running his hand along the space that Armie was sitting just seconds prior, sniffling and whimpering.

“See, I told you. I’m back already, huh?” Armie says as he sits next to Timmy again, not acknowledging the few tears glistening in his eyes, knowing that bringing it up will cause Timmy to break and sobs will ensue.

“Mhm,” Timmy hums wobbly, wiping his eyes with uncoordinated hands.

Armie sets the cup down on the nightstand before getting his hands under Timmy’s armpits and lifting him up against the pillow and headboard. “Let’s sit you up so you can drink some of this water, okay?” Timmy winces as he moves, but eventually is in a good position to get some liquid in his system.

“Do you know where you are?” Armie asks as he reaches for the cup, rubbing Timmy’s thigh supportively.

Timmy looks around the dimly lit room and thinks. Armie doesn’t rush him. “Home?” he mumbles.

“Yes, baby. You’re at home,” Armie answers before lifting the glass to Timmy’s lips.

Timmy hurriedly grabs the cup from Armie’s hands and holds it in his own. Armie assumes he’s becoming more alert at this point and doesn’t want Armie doing things for him. Armie wants to tell him no, that Armie needs to help him right now, but he also knows that Timmy is trying to gain back some independence and keep as much dignity as he can after withering in their bed during sex. Not that that’s anything Timmy should be ashamed about, but Armie knows the embarrassment is something he can’t convince Timmy otherwise of.

He does, however, butt in when Timmy starts drinking the water a bit too fast. “Slow down, babe. There’s no rush.”

As if on cue, Timmy inhales or something to that effect because he starts heavily choking on the water. He coughs uncontrollably as Armie takes the cup from him, beginning to panic slightly.

“Shit,” he curses as Timmy continues to hack deeply, having difficulty even taking in a breath. Armie’s heart beats out of his chest as it doesn’t seem like Timmy is stopping any time soon.

Armie grabs Timmy off the headboard and holds him against his chest, having the boy lean over and rest his chin on Armie’s shoulder as he continues to struggle taking in raspy breaths and letting out excruciating, guttural coughs. 

“You’re okay. You’re okay. Just get it out. Try to catch your breath, love,” Armie says, now beginning to seriously worry. Timmy continues to hack over his shoulder.

The coughs jolt Timmy’s entire body against Armie’s. Armie pats Timmy’s back as the hacks get so intense that Timmy starts gagging weakly against Armie. Timmy, now extremely frightened, grabs at Armie, begging him to make it stop, but Armie doesn’t know how. And then, one particularly harsh gag has Timmy puking all down Armie’s back. Armie feels the hot liquid drip over his shoulder blades, and wants to cringe, but knows he should stay calm for Timmy.

“It’s alright. Get it out,” Armie says, not even mentioning the vomit.

Timmy seems to be more able to catch his breath by then because he soon starts to pant into Armie’s neck, breaths hitting the older’s chest. He starts trembling soon after that, and he bursts into tears in no time. Timmy holds nothing back as he sobs against Armie, gripping his chest, his arms, his back. Anything for support. He pours it all out then. Armie assumes it’s not only the postictal emotions that're making him cry. It’s the confusion, the exhaustion, the frustration with this being his life. Neither of them can understand it. Why does he have to live like this?

“Oh, don’t cry, baby. You’re okay,” Armie comforts as he rocks the two of them, his hand buried in Timmy’s curls. 

Timmy continues to weep against his lover, shaking with so much force, mumbling incoherently.

“Shhh. I know, I know,” Armie hums. But the truth is, he doesn’t. He’ll never know what exactly Timmy goes through. And that hurts him, because he and Timmy are one, and he would take whatever is causing Timmy pain away in a heartbeat.

Timmy’s cries eventually reside to sniffles and Armie feels him falling asleep against his shoulder. He can tell by the deep breathing and the heaviness of the boy leaning further and further into him. It’s endearing, but he knows he better lay Timmy down for bed before he jolts awake when Armie tries to lay him down.

“Come on. Let’s get you to bed, then,” Armie says, laying the younger down against the pillow.

Armie picks the duvet up from where he’d frantically discarded it on the floor and places it over Timmy. He smooths his hair back and kisses his forehead before stepping away from the boy to clean the puke off his back.

Timmy is already fast asleep before he has time to tell Armie to stay.

\--

When Armie wakes up next, he jerks into a sitting position, turning the lamp on in record time. At first, he has no idea what woke him up. Nothing in the room is touched. Everything's in its place. That is until he looks to his side to see that Timmy is missing from the spot next to him, the blanket pulled back but the sheet still warm from his body heat.

Armie looks around the room confused. He checks the clock: four in the morning.

“Tim?” he hastily calls.

He gets a response only a few seconds later with a whine from what sounds like the other side of the bed. On the...floor?

“Timmy?” Armie asks again as he gets out of the bed to follow the sound. 

As he steps around the side of the bed, the sight jolts his heart for a second. Timmy is on the floor beside the bed, curled into a ball and trembling. Armie thinks for about half a second that he’s having yet another seizure, but soon comes to realize that’s not the case when Timmy slowly lifts his head up to look at Armie, tears shining in his eyes as he says, “Armie…”

Armie immediately crouches down beside him, gripping his shoulder and asking, “What happened, baby? Did you fall?”

Timmy slowly pushes himself up, wincing from what probably is a dull ache that courses through his entire body. He then nods, whispering out, “I’m sorry.”

Armie frowns at him in confusion. “Why’re you sorry? Where were you trying to go in the first place?”

Timmy shakes his head, looking at the ground as a few tears that gathered in his eyes finally flood over. “Had to pee. I’m sorry, I...I pissed myself.”

Just then Armie looks down to notice a small puddle of piss surrounding his lower region, soaking the floor. Armie’s never been so glad to have hardwood floors in his life. He examines Timmy, making sure he didn’t hurt himself anywhere else. Apparently taking too long to respond, Timmy frantically starts to explain himself.

“I--I tried to wake you up, but you were...not that it’s your fault. You just...you didn’t hear me calling you. So, I...I got out of bed by myself but when I stood up everything hurt so bad so I fell and then I...I kind of had an accident. I’m sorry. I’ll clean it up, I promise--”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm down, honey. It’s okay, I’m not mad at you,” Armie assures after he notices Timmy getting flustered.

“I didn’t mean to. I was going to the bathroom--”

“Shhh, shhh, hey,” Armie whispers, tucking a curl behind Timmy’s ear. “It’s not a big deal. Why don’t you go wash off in the shower while I clean this up, okay?”

Timmy looks hesitant, an intense red blush covering his cheeks before he nods, taking his boyfriend’s offered hand. Armie has to help Timmy walk more than he expected. They shuffle their way into the bathroom, Armie sitting Timmy down on the toilet as he turns the shower on. Timmy straight up refuses eye contact.

Armie hovers over Timmy who relentlessly plays with his nails before saying, “Do you know what happened?”

Timmy looks up then, confused. “No?”

Armie sighs and crouches in front of the other. “You had a seizure.”

Shock and shame immediately cover Timmy’s entire face. His eyes go wide as he asks, “Where? Was it at dinner?” He seems to remember that they had decided to go out that night.

“No, baby. It was at home. I promise,” Armie assures, actually telling the truth this time. After the argument they had last time about Armie lying to Timmy about where he seized for Timmy’s sake, Armie is sure to only be blunt with him from now on.

“But--”

“Your shower is ready. Just sit down on the little stool part so you don’t have to stand,” Armie says, cutting the boy off before he can worry any further.

He helps Timmy into the shower and then leaves. Armie cleans up the mess beside their bed without a second thought. It’s nothing to fret over because it’s nothing Timmy can particularly help.

When he steps back into the bathroom, Timmy has already turned the shower off and is trying to step out. Before he can injure himself by slipping, Armie rushes over to him with a towel and says, “Easy, easy.”

Timmy blushes and takes the towel from Armie before drying himself off well. He then drops it completely and leans forward to pull Armie’s naked body against his own in a much needed embrace. He breathes Armie in before speaking. Armie can tell he hesitates before opening his mouth. “It happened while we were having sex, didn’t it?”

Armie tenses at Timmy’s accurate speculation. “Timmy…”

“And don’t say it doesn’t matter because...it does matter...to me,” Timmy confesses, keeping his face buried in Armie’s chest, scared to face him.

“It’s just...it’s not something you can control, Tim,” Armie says, rubbing large circles into Timmy’s back.

A moment of silence. “I wish things were different.”

Armie sighs. “I wish that, too, babe. More than you know.”

They crawl into bed soon after that, holding each other for as long as they needed to. When Armie finally pulls Timmy’s back against his chest at night, he can’t help but think that despite their constant battle with reality, there’s nothing that can bring each of them down to earth more than each other.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for the comments, kudos, and support!!  
> if you want more, definitely let me know and i'll be glad to continue!
> 
> also my tumblr is sweettimotea if you want to chat or send in questions/suggestions.  
> <3


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